Saturday, October 11, 2008

Expresso-ing Myself

Last night, after dinner with friends I went to Ross and bought one of those stove top expresso maker-they've always fascinated me. I think they are related to the pressure cooker though-I finally bought one of THOSE last year and still haven't summoned the courage to use it. Explosions unnerve me (because my brother painted contact explosives on a fence when I was 6). Ok-ok-it's true he did do that, but I think I just don't like bangs and flying projectiles in general.

I also got a wire wine rack so I can take the wine out of the cabinet in the kitchen-I need cabinet space and a 7.00 rack beats a new cabinet all to heck....

And a wire vase to paint and use for my new floral arrangement. Other than dumping fresh flowers in a vase, I don't believe I've actually arranged florals before. But I wanted something nice for Thanksgiving Dinner (what was I thinking?) and I really wanted to do it myself. Of course, now it's taken on a life of it's own-you'll just have to wait and see-but there is a good chance it will be as tall as I am by the time I'm done.....LOL. Which means, in my household, proper materials are key, or something so heavy the dogs can't knock it over......art meets engineering and german safety design.

It's been a sad-ish week. Hospice says it's time to make arrangements for John, and when I called all kinds of red tape arose surrounding cremation. In the end, it looks like a military burial is going to be his final rest or whatever they call it. My father helped me with some of it, and I know it was hard for him, but knowing what an elderly gentlemen who didn't leave instructions would want is just the pits. Now Daddy is leaning towards the military burial too. I don't care what he chooses, I just want him to choose something. I have trouble ordering dinner, deciding on someone's eternal resting place is a lot to ask.

The funny thing is, I don't care what they do with me. But John and my parents are of an era where those things mattered, and I want to honor them as best I can. That's partly what love is I think, going out of your way for thing that don't matter to you but matter to someone else you care about.

The parrot has taken up opera singing, and in the afternoon the neighborhood around my house sounds like a den of carnal pleasure. It's even funnier when he mixes dog training and opera....goes something like aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 0hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeeesssssssss Good JOb!

Debra Kay - I thought I was the only one who is afraid of pressure cookers - guess not!Whatever decisions are made, as long as you and your family are comfortable with them, your Uncle John will be too. So go with what feels best for all of you.

Pressure cookers scare the hell out of me. Latte machines don't. I was thinking about your Uncle John the other day and wondering how he was doing. So sorry to hear about having to make the arrangements, those are very tough decisions. Funerals are a good closing ritual for many of us. I know that for me, I need the ritual of saying goodbye in some kind of organized manner, be that at the beach or at a graveyard. I'll be thinking of you Deb, take care of you OK?

Oh yeah - my brother had a parrot who sang opera and we would get to hear the same strange combinations of song and other sounds. Very odd when Madame Butterfly is singing about killing herself when suddenly you hear a phone ringing - and it's all the bird!

It is too funny. Oliver's attempts at opera sound like a woman having mucho pleasure, only the Ollie Mix includes sighs, gorans and farts.

He also sings the first line of "stand by your man"..."sometimes it's hard to be a woe-mun....." then belches really loudly. I hope wherever she is, Miss Tammy Wynette knows in his own way he's paying tribute.

I'm glad he's moved out into the sun room during the day-and shares his joy with the entire neighborhood. Around the corner from where I live know, there used to be a couple that had a yellow nape that had his own outdoor cage. I'd ride my bike up and down Ross Avenue listening and laughing at that bird. I was actually looking for a yellow nape when I found Oliver, and the rest is history.

Since getting Oliver, I am more open to African Grays now. They really are a beautiful animal, the beauty is just more subtle than some of the other parrots.

That was just one of those moments when I knew that the right being had crossed my path, and I'm glad I listened. What's even spookier is that Dottie died the day Oliver was to have come home-I feel like maybe she was passing the torch.

even when we expect the inevitable, we cannot help but hurt like hell. i do so worry about you and if you will be okay when it's all over...loook after you....and god bless that operatic parrot, i hope to meet him face to face one day!

I'm pretty sure Uncle John knows you've got things covered. His loss will be hard on all of you even though it's been coming for a while. I hope you have peace in your heart that you've done all you can from the start, including taking care of his final wishes. I imagine things will be somber with the folks for a bit. I think that's when Oliver does his job the best. There'll be no long, sad faces around him for long. At least until he sings, farts and belches!I do get a laugh when I read about his antics, esp because I picture you busting up constantly! You're good for one another ;)Keeping Uncle John and the rest of you in my thoughts.

About Me

I decided it was time for a new profile, but I'm still not sure what to say. I think the best way to get to know me is to get to know me. I could TELL you anything, but I might be wrong, or self delusional. So, I'll just say Howdy!